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residences-of-the-darkforest · 3 months ago

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Dark Forest Resident: Mouseshell

Aliases / Nicknames: Mouse, Squeaks (by Applesting), Clumsy-paws

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: pansexual, aromantic

Family: Hazelwing (mother), Applesting (father), Ivypetal, Tigerdawn (sisters), Pebblestorm (aunt), Browneyes (uncle), Doebur, Curlfire (cousins), Amberstar (grandmother)

Other Relations: unnamed mentor, Flypaw (apprentice)

Clan: ThunderClan

Rank: warrior

Characteristics: craves attention, formerly sweet, currently cruel and bloodthirsty, optimistic, friendly, sociable

Murder Motive: vengeance, to get attention, rage

Number of Victims: 11

Number of Murders: 10

Murder Method: neglecting help in fox attack, burying alive, poisoning, beating to death

Known Victims: Firebelly, Grassnettle, Specklewhisker, Flypaw, Badgerclaw, Amberstar, Tigerdawn, five unnamed Clanmates

Victim Profile: those that annoyed her, random selection, her apprentice, the deputy, her grandmother, her sister

Cause of Death: flesh torn out by Ivypetal

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

"It's better if you step aside."

"Move out of the way."

"You're not needed."

These, among other words, became ingrained into Mouseshell's head. It was hard for them not to be, they were repeated too often for her to be able to forget them.

She already expected to hear them whenever she went to offer help with something or to join a patrol.

It wasn't that she was incredibly clumsy or unusually annoying. The fact that she was an outcast wasn't because of who she was. It was who she wasn't.

Her uncle, the medicine cat, had a vision the day she and her sisters were born, just moments before Hazelwing went into labor. It foretold a future of greatness, a heroic destiny, saviours to all the Clans.

That's what her sisters would be.

A third cat was not seen in the vision, and when a third kitten was born, cats were surprised. Browneyes had perfectly described Tigerkit and Ivykit's pelts, down to the little speckles on both their snouts before he saw them, but he hadn't expected Mousekit at all.

What is worse than being an ordinary warrior?

Being an ordinary warrior whose littermates are destined for greatness.

Everybody wanted to be friends with the prophesied sisters.

No one wanted to be friends with the outcast.

It begged the question that her Clan, and family in particular, asked over and over: why was she excluded? Why is she not meant for greatness too?

Most cats silently agreed that if she were to be included, she would surely mess things up somehow, would make a mistake that would result in horrible consequences, and that that is why she was left out. And that idea that they convinced themselves to be fact made them wonder more.

If they let her build their dens, would she make a vital mistake?

If they let her lead a patrol, would she fail badly?

Amberstar, her grandmother, would always keep her behind to watch the camp during a battle. "Another time," she would always promise. Mouseshell figured out long ago that another time would never come.

She would have given up long ago if she weren't so desperate to be needed. To be welcomed. To be told, for once, that she wasn't in the way or being a bother just for standing there.

All she craved was to be seen.

But every time she tried to prove herself, she failed miserably.

She tried to catch a plump squirrel from the highest tree in the territory--it was leaf-bare and it was the biggest prey anyone had seen--but the branch below her paws gave way, and in her fall, she ended up dislocating the ankle of her Clanmate who went to catch her.

She convinced Amberstar--for the first time--to let her lead a patrol after she found a new badger set and wished to drive the beast out, only for it to be abandoned with the only resident of the hole being a hare--which Mouseshell scared away so they couldn't even eat it. In that time, RiverClan attacked the camp, and because Mouseshell told Amberstar to send out a big patrol of the Clan's strongest warriors, ThunderClan lost. Of course, it was all blamed on her.

Everything always was.

All her life, for moons and moons she tried so hard every single day to make her Clan, and more importantly, her family, proud. And every day she failed and was treated worse.

Hazelwing was nice enough. She was kind to Mouseshell and enjoyed her company the most, but duties kept them apart. Tigerdawn was always pulled from one patrol or task to another, and by the time she had any freetime--which was typically when the day was over, she didn't have any time to do anything but eat or sleep.

Ivypetal, too, was ordered to work all day every day. They were meant for greatness, after all, surely that meant they were the best when it came to building dens, or hunting, or fighting, or any chore whatsoever. Unlike Tigerdawn however, Ivypetal's lack of free time made her resentful of her unspecial sister, and that misguided anger only distanced the sisters further.

But the worst was Amberstar. She was the one that Mouseshell was so desperate to make happy. It was her who Mouseshell needed so badly to see pride in when she looked at her, not disappointment, or regret, or irritation.

Irritation that she was there.

Regret that she existed at all.

Mouseshell couldn't take it anymore. She needed answers, needed a proper explanation as to why it was her destiny to suffer. So one night, she snuck out and headed for the Moonstone. Surely StarClan would answer her, right?

But even as she touched her nose to the stone, there was nothing. No explanation. Not even a single comforting word.

On the way back, Mouseshell was attacked by a dog. It knocked into her, dislocating her shoulder. She had been terrified as its' slobering jaws loomed over her. The only reason she was able to walk away was because a kittypet had seen the attack and had gotten its Twoleg's attention.

When the Twolegs put the dog safely away, they took her in and treated her injury--as much as she protested, fearing they would force her to become a housecat. Thankfully, after they had treated her and left her be to explore the house, the kind kittypet showed her the way out. He had been nice enough to walk with her to her territory, ensuring she got home safe. Mouseshell couldn't help but wonder when the last time someone cared about her like that.

She offered him a place in the Clan, but he politely turned her down and wished her well.

Part of her was nervous. In the time it took her to go to the Moonstone and come back, with all the activities that took place in-between, nearly two full days had passed. Amberstar would be furious with her. Ivypetal would snort and say how she had wasted everyone's time with search patrols.

Ha.

She had been so naive. Or maybe she had been hopeful.

Hopeful that Amberstar's fury was really just worry about her grandkit's safety. Hopeful that Ivypetal would have insisted on being on every single patrol set out to find her sister.

What a laugh.

No one had even noticed she was gone.

That was...well it didn't feel right to say that it was the tipping point. In truth, the iceberg had been slowly, every slowly, tilting over for a long time now. No, this was the point where it splashed into the icy cold water.

All that time trying to prove herself to them. Trying to get them to show her that they love her. That they see her.

Oh, they'll see her.

Like the metaphorical water around her, her demeaner had shifted. She no longer smiled at everyone just to brighten their day. They didn't deserve her kindness. She no longer went out of her way for a Clanmate that wouldn't even thank her.

She wouldn't bother talking to cats that avoided her. That self-imposed solitude became much more comforting than she had expected it to be all those moons she had been avoiding it. Turns out, you can't be hurt by someone if you don't bother yourself with them. You can't hear the hurtful words telling you to go away if you're too far. You can't see the odd glances from the older cats, wondering what is so wrong with you, if you're not around them.

Her thoughts had shifted as well thanks to her solitude bringing different, darker thoughts with it.

The problem wasn't her. It was everyone else.

From the moment she was born, they treated her like a sickness. Pity at best, even from her own parents.

But they weren't blind, not entirely terrible. They could see that she had grown withdrawn. They tried to reach out to her, her father telling jokes in an attempt to make her laugh while her mother told her over and over that she could always talk to her if she needed to.

Too little, too late. Piss off.

Tigerdawn, in a small break in which she was enjoying a meal, offered to share it with Mouseshell. "I haven't seen you all day, sis. Tell me about it. Caught any squirrels?"

The question had been innocent. But all Mouseshell could sense was mockery. She only gave Tigerdawn a cold glance before walking past her.

Even Ivypetal had tried, shockingly enough. But it was painfully clear that she didn't wish to talk to her youngest sister at all. It had been their parents who pushed her.

Mouseshell had been alone in the forest when her sister approached her, barely able to contain her annoyance at having to talk to her. Ivypetal had been the only one that Mouseshell didn't keep her Happy, Everything's Alright demeanor around: they both didn't like each other and they both knew it. But there was still some pleasentries, the little smile given just for face. But they were alone now. And even if they weren't, Mouseshell had stopped caring about what others thought of her long ago.

The weak attempt at a talk had quickly developed into an argument. Then Ivypetal pushed her, and Mouseshell pushed back. In a matter of heated seconds, they were rolling on the ground, clawing and screeching until they were pulled apart.

Get this, this is the real kicker: not one cat blamed Ivypetal for the fight. Not even the both of them! Nope, it was all Mouseshell's fault, even if no one knew what caused them to go at it in the first place. Ivypetal was destined for greatness. Of course she wouldn't be the first one to strike.

At least she had the decency to look guilty as their mother checked her over, asking if she was okay while Amberstar scolded Mouseshell.

After both their wounds--minor scratches--were treated, they were punished. And by punished, that means that Ivypetal got to collect moss just outside the camp for what was likely no more than two trips, while Mouseshell had to travel all the way across the territory to collect herbs after 'wasting' them.

But she couldn't even have peace in that. Because someone as troublesome as her needed a guide to keep her in check.

Firebelly had never been a fan of Mouseshell, for the same reasons that nobody was. A little older than Mouseshell herself, the bratty she-cat acted like the all-knowing mentor that Mouseshell had to obey.

This is the best route. Don't you know that?

You're going to ruin the herbs if you pick them up like that.

No, no, no.

Wrong, all wrong.

You're wasting my time.

Mouseshell couldn't take it anymore. She snapped at Firebelly to shut up. It was a loud bark, Mouseshell had never been so thunderous in her life.

Firebelly had opened her offended jaws to retort when a fox burst out of the trees. Mouseshell's shout had attracted it. Quickly, she dove up a tree and saw in horror that Firebelly hadn't been so lucky.

The fox had her pinned by the tail, lips licking its sharp fangs.

Firebelly had stared at the fox in absolute terror, than to Mouseshell safely in the trees. She had begged her for help.

Mouseshell's muscles tensed, preparing to leap down when--

Why?

It was so sudden, so out of character for her and yet it rang so deep in her body that it kept her paws rooted in place.

Why should she help someone who didn't even like her?

Why should she help someone who had just been ridiculing her?

She was safe. Why should she risk that? Did this cat really matter more than her own safety? Surely not.

She paused, stilling, then settled back down.

Firebelly's eyes widened further before--

No one would know. The thought almost made her smile.

And no one did.

Sure, they would probably blame her, but they wouldn't know that she had deliberately sat down as Firebelly was mauled just before her.

She thought of that again.

She had deliberately sat down as Firebelly was mauled just before her.

It was almost absurd, how different it was from the cat she had long to be for so long. From the cat she thought she was. It was freeing. It was funny.

No one else mattered but herself. It took the fox attack for Mouseshell to fully grasp that. All her life she had put aside her own happiness for the sake of someone else's, partly because she had truly been a kind cat, partly because she hoped it would get more cats to like and accept her. But when it came right down to it--her or someone else, she chose the former.

She was free.

She was shocked as well when no punishment was given. A tragic accident, nothing she could have done. Neither her mother nor her father refused to leave her side for the next couple of days, utterly distressed at how close they had come to losing her.

The thought alone nearly sent Tigerdawn into a spiraling panic, which she was then actually sent into when Firebelly's torn body was brought into the camp, making the horrible situation all the more real.

Amberstar gently told Mouseshell to get rest, to forget about those herbs and just do whatever felt right right now.

Ivypetal lingered nearby, unsure if Mouseshell wanted to see her, but unwilling to let her sister out of her sight again. How dreadful that Mouseshell had almost died horribly right after the worst fight in their lives. If it had happened just a few moons earlier, it would be endearing. Now, Mouseshell drank it all in, thoroughly enjoying their worry, their guilt and pain, their attention.

And as time went on and that attention slipped away, she couldn't help but wonder...if it had happened again...

She wasn't an idiot. She couldn't be obvious about it. If everyone was killed by a fox and she was always the lone survivor, it would be incredibly clear that something was going on.

Some more moons passed while she thought carefully. One night, she snuck out and dug into the hare's burrow. The next day, she told Grassnettle that she had scented milk there, knowing full-well that the tom would want all praise on himself and that he would claim that he had scented it, and that he wanted to lead a patrol there to collect the feast.

Mouseshell insisted on helping out. Nothing noteworthy there, she always insisted on helping. Grassnettle as well as Specklewhisker eagerly dived into the burrow. Mouseshell, above, heard their gasps when they found nothing there. Then she pushed aside the stick she had set up. They didn't have enough time to escape before the den collapsed on them.

Mouseshell rolled herself in the dirt to really sell the appearance. Then she waited, paws thrumming with thrill, to be sure that they had suffocated before desperately trying to dig them free.

She had acted the part perfectly. I'm so sorry, I tried!

They had assured her. It's alright, you did all you could.

Then the awful news: Specklewhisker is breathing!

It was infuriating. Though Mouseshell's kin focused more on her, the rest of the Clan's attention was aimed primarily on the much more injured warrior. A loose end. No worries, Mouseshell only needed to tie it up.

She had remembered what Browneyes had said about those red berries...

Oh, what a shame Specklewhisker had succumbed to his injuries before he had a chance to wake. At least his short survival made the reality of almost losing Mouseshell, again, all the more real.

Those berries gave her an idea, one she was already planning to use when the attention stopped. Oh, how eager she was! She could just skip across the whole camp.

Specklewhisker's death had been different. With Firebelly, all Mouseshell had to do was sit back. With Grassnettle, it was more planned, more personal. But with both of them, she only had to stand by as death came to them, more or less. Could have easily looked away. But Specklewhisker? Mouseshell had to look at him as she killed him, had to come up close and touch his body and force the berries down with her own paws. And right inside the heart of the camp too!

Her heart had never beat so fast in her life. It was exhilarating, an experience she would never forget and already wanted to relive. But that would have to wait.

Once again, all attention was on her in the best possible way.

The urge itched at her like a bothersome flea when the attention went away, but she forced herself to act like it didn't bother her. She had to put at least some time between each 'lucky survival,' otherwise it would be odd.

She had noticed that, while she enjoyed Specklewhisker's death, the attention she got that time around wasn't as good as the attention she got after the fox attack, and she realized the likely cause--guilt.

The second time around, her family was treating her better. Not as well as her younger, naiver self had hoped, but still better. But right before the fox, she and Ivypetal had the worst fight of their lives, and Amberstar was furious with her, and the rest of the family was too worried that she would snap at them as well to say anything.

That must be why it was so much better then, because not only did she almost die, but their last words to her would have been of anger or a cowardly lack of words at all!

She just had to bring out their anger a bit...

Oops! Sorry Browneyes, she didn't mean to squash the herbs!

Oh that was your robin, auntie? She's sorry, she thought it was meant for the elders! But you can have what's left...looks like a skinny vole...

Oh no! So sorry sis, she didn't mean to trip and ruin all your work on the nursery walls. What a clutz!

It was almost funny. Before she would make genuine mistakes in an attempt to gain their positive attention. Now, she was making purposeful 'mistakes' in order to gain their negative attention--to be turned into positive attention.

But it wasn't the attention itself that she enjoyed, much as she did. It was their pain. The guilt as they looked at her, the sorrow, the shame. She could see it eating away at them, and she fed off of it.

It was time.

She called some Clanmates over for a meal. It didn't matter who, so long as they ate.

She had found a raven--big enough to feed five cats--and stuffed it full of nightshade. She paid close attention to where the plants were, where some had clusters while other parts only had small droplets of the poison's essence. That's where she would eat.

Maybe it wasn't very logical.

Maybe it was stupid.

Maybe it was downright crazy, but Mouseshell didn't care. She would accept it.

Before the next dawn, everyone had fallen incredibly ill. Mouseshell did get sick, but she was still significantly better than the other four--not that she didn't act the part. To anyone else, she was in just as bad a condition and in just as much danger of dying.

One Clanmate died that night. Another lasted two more days, and the last sputtered and coughed for three more. That left Mouseshell, still so weak and scared.

Hazelwing wrapped around her every day, soothing her as if she were still a tiny kitten. Applesting would tell her stories to take her mind off of the pain, personally hunting her every meal. Her sisters were her most frequent guests after her parents.

Strong as Tigerdawn physically was, she had a soft interior, and practically bawled every time she stepped into the medicine den and saw Mouseshell's state.

Ivypetal had visibly trembled. After the second death, she had laid beside Mouseshell while the latter was definitely asleep, and begged for her to get better--begged her and StarClan, and said how sorry she was for how she treated her.

It was nice. Not the apology itself, oh no, it was much too late for that, but hearing that irritating she-cat in so much distress? Mouseshell had to force herself not to smile.

She was rewarded for her survival in the form of an apprentice. Something she surely would have loved...at some point. But this excitable, much too-hyper kit would be a drain on her plans. How was she to kill when she always had a blabber-mouth following her every step?

But it could be good, she realized. There are many ways to get attention.

You get it when you almost die.

You get it when you lose someone close to you (something she learned watching the family of her victims).

It really is boring training someone who you know will die before their ceremony, but she couldn't just kill Flypaw right away. No, they needed to 'bond' first. They would have such a good rapport in everyone's eyes, before it was so harshly snatched away.

But hey, she enjoyed getting her paws dirty, didn't she? And Flypaw was smaller, weaker. It would be easy and it would be fun.

She should have made sure that it was quiet.

Flypaw had screeched for help before Mouseshell held her down in the stream, but they were so far from camp, she didn't imagine anyone would actually hear her, not at this time of day.

But Applesting...her father truly was an odd cat.

He had stared at her in shock, and Mouseshell stared back, debating on if she should wait for him to make the first move or if she should do it herself. She was surprised when Applesting--expression still shocked--began digging at the ground. She tried to tell him that they could just bring the 'paw back to camp, but he had shaken his head. The Clan wouldn't be happy if Flypaw died on her watch, and Flypaw's parents...it was better that they thought she was taken by some Twolegs.

Mouseshell had to admit, he made some good points. After they buried Flypaw, they hurried back to camp to break the news, but just before they burst through the entrance, Applesting had stilled. His eyes were distant, wide as ever and filled with horror as he whispered his question: "why did you do that?"

In response, Mouseshell had asked, "why did you help me?"

"You're my daughter," was all Applesting could manage before continuing into the camp with a quivering intake of breath.

While she was happy she wasn't getting exiled for murder after having her crime witnessed, Mouseshell was immensely displeased at having her patience for four moons go unrewarded. No one even knew that Flypaw was dead! Sure, she was comforted for losing her apprentice and not being able to save her and yadayada but that wasn't the same.

But there was a silver lining. While Amberstar was tearing Mouseshell a new one for losing her apprentice, Mouseshell realized something. She watched as her grandmother snapped orders to other warriors, who followed without a second thought, eager to please her (or at least eager to not be in the line of fire). How did it take her so long?

What better way was there to get attention than to become the one cat in the Clan that everybody pays attention to, admires, obeys? She should become the leader!

But she had to be careful. Applesting was watching her strangely. Looking at her like she wasn't his kit, but a monster come to take her place. But he didn't say anything. She was still his kit, his daughter, his baby, and he couldn't have anything bad happen to her, no matter how awful she was.

It was a few days later when Applesting confronted her. He brought her into the forest to talk, before whirling around and snarling. But as furious as he first seemed, it was clear that he was terrified. Not of Mouseshell, but of the truth he had to face.

He asked her if Firebelly really was killed by a fox--if any of them were really killed by bad luck.

Mouseshell asked him what he thought. Did he think she's capable of such vile acts? Of lying to everyone? Of committing murder after murder?

When that caused Applesting to stumble in his despair, she assured him that she never targeted him. He was a good father. That's why he helped her, isn't it? That's why he's not going to say anything. From most cats' mouths it would be manipulative, but from her it wasn't. She didn't need to guilt her father into silence. She already knew that he wouldn't say anything, that he never would. It was more to reassure herself. He would be quiet. Her secret would be safe.

It was time to act.

She would befriend the deputy, Badgerclaw. Get him sick. Then she would be the one who visited him every day, getting him food and herbs and everything he needed to get better. And when she wasn't doing that, she would fill in his role by sending out patrols and keeping the Clan in check. Not only would he see her as a good friend, he would see her as perfect deputy material. Then she would take out old Amberstar, Badgerclaw would become Badgerstar and name her his deputy, then he would have an accident--

That was the plan, at least.

She had slipped Badgerclaw too many nightshade berries, and the sickness he was supposed to recover from ended up killing him.

Tigerdawn became the new deputy instead of her. Of course, it would be someone destined for greatness, wouldn't it? Why would Amberstar pick her, the cat who always messed up and who lost her own apprentice?

Well, Amberstar had to go. Tigerdawn would see reason--or, more hopefully, she would be blinded by her love for her sister and pick her as the new deputy.

Amberstar's death was fun, and surprisingly easy! She was old and weak, all strength was a facade that came from her short temper and high rank. But alone in the forest, it was easy to overpower her. Sinking her claws into that old bat's skin was amazing! As was the thrill of the chase, the shock and terror and sadness in her kin's eyes--Mouseshell wished she could do it over and over again. But she only got to do it three times.

Everyone was devastated. Yes, so sad, but anyways Tigerdawn had to receive her new name. Mouseshell was thrilled. Until she overheard her sister speak with Browneyes, asking his opinion on who she should pick as her deputy. Mouseshell's name didn't come up once.

All that work for nothing! Failure after failure!

No more plans, no more thinking things through. What was the point when it all comes crumbling anyways? She would act on what she wanted to do now and that alone, and what she wanted to do now was rip her inconsiderate sister to shreds.

She followed Tigerdawn to the Moonstone. She was alone, as Browneyes had to stay behind to watch a queen close to delivering her first litter.

Tigerdawn was stronger than her, and much bigger. Mouseshell had to be careful....In her current state of mind, that simply means to jump her from behind, rather than any more full-proof plan.

She managed to get in some good bites on the back of Tigerdawn's neck before her sister flung her to the ground, but in spite of her sister's greater strength, Tigerdawn refused to fight back--refused to fight the sister she loved so much. She didn't understand what was happening, why Mouseshell--who she only ever saw as caring and sweet--would attack her so viciously.

There were only so many times she could shove Mouseshell away--who still snarled and clawed and bit--before she had to use force and pinned her to the ground, demanding what in StarClan's name was going on.

But it wasn't Mouseshell who answered. It was Ivypetal's voice that broke into the fight. "Murderer!"

She knew everything. Applesting had told her everything when he realized that she had gone after Tigerdawn. He would do anything for his baby, but not when she was going to hurt another child of his. That was the line.

It was two against one. She couldn't lie her way out of this, they already knew the truth. She couldn't fight her way out of it either. She was already struggling with Tigerdawn, but now there was two of them.

The only option she had was to admit defeat. Have her sisters either exile her or drag her back to the camp to be held as a prisoner.

While they cried and begged her for answers, asking why she would do this, how she could be so cruel, she made up her mind. She lunged.

She knew she would not win, not a chance. But she would rather die than admit defeat, and heck, why not tear apart the great, prophesied sisters while she did it?

She didn't want to give them the chance to simply hold her back. They were going to kill her or die. She was fine with either option, either they would suffer physically or emotionally.

It was Ivypetal who dealt the killing blow, not that she wished it. Unlike their youngest littermate, neither Ivypetal nor Tigerdawn had a single bloodthirsty bone in their body. When Mouseshell's body fell limp, all they felt was complete sadness. They held each other close, bloodied and sobbing.

They dragged her body a little ways, wanting to bury her among lily flowers in a spot where once, long ago, the three had played all day.

Additional Information:

--Tigerdawn and Ivypetal returned to camp without visiting the Moonstone. Tiger didn't want to become leader after that, so the role was passed to someone else.

--Ivypetal was pregnant when she killed Mouseshell, likely finding out only the day before.

--They decided to keep Mouseshell's acts a secret. Later, Ivy named one of her kits after her.

Neither sister fully emotionally recovered from that day.

--Other members in Mouse's family had 'great destinies' as well, as it further isolates her. Her grandmother is the leader. Her uncle is the medicine cat. Her mother and perhaps aunt did something amazing (I imagine something similar to canon cats finding new territory or discovering the Moonpool, something big like that).

--Speaking of other family members! Her aunt is her mother's sister. Doebur is female while Curlfire is genderqueer. We didn't see them in the story, but they were a part of their relatives' lives!

--Base: F2U Base by SweetBloodCat on DeviantArt

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